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From the Desk of Deacon Rayne
01/02/08

Greetings, Salutations and Happy New Year,

Well, I imagine if you’re reading this, then you already know who I am and so I will forgo the introductions so that I may instead, right now, take this opportunity to thank you. Thank you for the attention and thank you for the time you have spent with my story: it has, and continues to be, both my honor and privilege to receive your patronage, to share this story with you, and to have you share your thoughts and wishes regarding it, with us, in return.. After being absent for many years, only to come back and, almost effortlessly, reacquire the sustained interest of you, the readers, was a gift that I had neither expected nor had earned. You, reading this now, and leaving the comments you’ve left, are absolutely vital. Not only does art absolutely REQUIRE an audience, but your interest and your comments, ranging from suggestions to simple words of encouragement and expressions of interest help sustain all of our efforts: by helping us remaine motivated and, speaking for myself, helps me become a better writer in the process.

Unfortunately, not even the best motivation will overcome the occasional complications life throws at us.

By now, you’ve noticed that the Friday update did not go up as scheduled last week. Regrettably, a combination of people not being available for the holidays, technical failure, and the loss of an editor stretched our resources to the breaking point and this last week, my colleagues and I simply could not get the chapter posted in time.

“A mistake is not a mistake the first time it is made; it is a learning experience”. That’s a saying I’ve always enjoyed and I believe that it holds true for this “learning experience” as well. A new editing schedule has been set up and responsibilities have been redistributed so that this does not happen again.

This should not have happened at all: if you, (I am not speaking of “you” in the “anonymous fan-base” sense, but YOU, specifically, the reader, right now reading this) are going to devote the time and energy to faithfully tune in every Friday Night to read the latest chapter of the Hellmouth Ascendant Trilogy (much as all of us tuned in to see Buffy or Angel every week), then we have an obligation, to you, to see that your devotion is rewarded by ensuring that every week, the material is there and ready for your enjoyment.

Speaking personally, I used to get really upset when Buffy or Angel would be preempted for a holiday special or an episode would be axed completely due to the political climate (especially in the US; see below). Thus, if I intend to avoid hypocrisy, then I intend to make sure I don’t do the same thing, for whatever reason.

At any rate, below are a few pages of BRAND NEW material. Beginning with this chapter, the Hellmouth Ascendant Trilogy truly begins to earn its title of “Re-Vamped Edition”. I have done everything in my power to remain true to the canonical material of the Buffy/Angel ‘verse (including the official comics that make up Season 8) in regards to this story and to the new material. I ask your indulgence in the event that I make a mistake: I offer no excuses, merely the simple fact that nobody is perfect.

These pages are my gift to you specifically and to you all as well, it is my way of saying three things to you:

“I am sorry for not making sure that this was not waiting for you when it was wanted and when it was supposed to be”

“I am truly grateful for everything all of you have given me over the last few years: all the support and encouragement and feedback. Thank you all very, very much”

And finally

“I promise each and every one of you who have been reading, who continue to read and who are just starting to read this story; this will never happen again if I have any control over it whatsoever”.

I sincerely hope that not only will you all continue to read this story but that those of you who have added, or have yet to add, comments will do so.

Enough talk. Enjoy the new material. 2008 will be a year of failing light, darkness, and the coming dawn. I invite you all to join me on the journey.

Remember, it could have been a lot worse as far as this delay: do any other US citizen’s remember how long it took to finally see “Becoming Part 2” and “Earshot”?

See you Friday
Yours Faithfully,

Deacon Rayne



And now: a preview of “Chapter 9: Kind Lies”

The creature jerked suddenly to focus its glowing green eyes on Dawn and they narrowed, hungry and hunting. It raced towards her, emitting another horrible shriek. Dawn had no time to react, the pain hit her like a freight train and she was completely paralyzed as it closed on her. It reached her, jaws open.

And with a roar of maternal fury, Joyce, coming up from behind the table, slammed a meat cleaver half the size of a machete up into the creatures jaw. The carbon steel carved up through the creatures jaw and continued, utterly unimpeded, up past the jaw and all the way up and out of the beast’s slimy head. The creature looked…confused, staring at her uncomprehendingly through its now-bisected face.

Joyce hefted the weighty meat cleaver up, taking a moment to hold the blade before its glowing green eyes, before bringing it up over her head and squeezing it tightly with both hands.

“You get the hell away from my daughter,” she snarled and she brought the blade down with all the might of a mother defending her child.

The head came away entirely and landed on the floor with a rotten splat! Overextended by the force of her blow, Joyce lost her grip on the knife, it tumbled down the now-exposed trachea of the decapitated beast which had collapsed in a heap, now thumping and twitching, making wet, painful sounds. Without taking her eyes from the beast, Joyce reached behind her, feeling for her daughter.

Dawn took her hand and wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist, staring coldly at the thing that had killed her sister. “It’s not dead,” she warned her mother.

Joyce nodded and, still focused on the creature, carefully knelt down and clutched several of the other razor sharp knives that had spilt onto the floor when Dawn had tipped the table.

“It will be,” Joyce answered in a quiet voice that promised a long and torturous death for the thing that she had seen killed Buffy, her little girl; the thing that had taken her baby away from her.

“Good,” Dawn responded in just a quiet a voice as her mother raised the first knife up.

And then the thing spat at Joyce through one of its tiny, cleft mouths.

The slime struck the woman with the force of a cannonball knocking her off her feet and sending her flying backwards past Dawn to slam into the wall behind her. The slime hardened over her face and she couldn’t breathe or see as she beat it with her hands, blind and suffocating in the dark.

“Mom!” Dawn screamed. Dawn tried to rush to her mother’s aid when another glob of slime splattered before her feet. Dawn gasped and jumped back, just in time to dodge a third stream of slime, this one coating the doorway leading out of the kitchen, forming a sticky, rock hard web that effectively sealed her in.

Dawn spared the blocked doorway a passing glance, she wasn’t planning on leaving anyway: not with the pain this thing had caused her and her family. Dawn picked up a pair of the knives and regarded the slimy beast with a calm that has defined warriors since time immemorial.

A calm that only comes when a warrior embraced their own death in order to purchase the death of their enemy.

To read the rest, please continue on to the next chapter...





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